


The Escapades of the Blind Bandit and Meathead: Discreet Entertainment

by ArtemisRae



Series: Escapades of the Blind Bandit and Meathead [11]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Drunkenness, Gen, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-11
Updated: 2008-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:31:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRae/pseuds/ArtemisRae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sokka and Toph find a way to get through boring meetings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Escapades of the Blind Bandit and Meathead: Discreet Entertainment

* * *

"So, logically, the most ideal route would go through the Wuhe district, but of course if we create a new road we would be going through those farmer's lands and would have to compensate them…" the voice droned on with little regard to who was actually paying attention. Sokka felt another hair go gray, and watched out of the corner of his eye as Toph picked up her tea cup and took a long, slow sip. He couldn't help the self-satisfied snicker that rose up inside of him at the sight.

It had started, as it always did, with only innocent intentions. Sokka and Toph were staying at the palace in the Fire Nation with Aang and Katara. They were there for another round of wrangling with post-war trade routes, and no amount of begging, bribing, and attempted blackmail had been able to keep them out of the meetings. The meetings were long, the room was hot, and Zuko and his advisors were (at least, according to Sokka and Toph, who often entertained some of the more colorful personalities of the world) incredibly boring.

"This is awful," Toph had groaned the previous night after dinner, throwing herself across her bed and yanking several delicate, expensive pins from her dark hair. "Aang hates us."

"Kyoshi!" Sokka had raged, absently counting steps as he paced the floor. "I even threatened him with Kyoshi, and he still didn't cave! You remember what happened in Kyoshi?"

"Barely," Toph had admitted, her voice muffled as her face was buried in the red silk covering her bed. "But I think it turned out worse for you than Aang."

"I can't sit through another day of that." Sokka had declared dramatically, flopping back into a high-backed chair and entirely ignoring the dig from Toph.

"Why do we even have to be there?" Toph had asked, finally rolling over to kick her legs over the side of the bed.

Sokka had heaved a huge sigh and tugged on his wolf's tail. "Aang said we were representing the interests of the other nations."

"So we have to be interested because no one else is?" Toph had immediately shot back, and Sokka had merely sighed again before closing his eyes, intending to drift off into a short nap without bothering to return to his own bedroom.

"We need to do something," Toph had said, and that was where it had all started. It was all in the way she had said it too, that Sokka had known that no good was going to come out of it. It wasn't a suggestion, it wasn't an order, it was just a simple statement. They had to do something. Something had to be done. They would not go through another day of it. Period.

Of course, later each would blame the other for coming up with the whole idea, would accuse the other of blatantly luring them towards the dangerous pastime that was creating an international incident, but at the time of creation the idea was met with equal enthusiasm from both parties.

Iroh always insisted on serving tea throughout these long meetings. For some reason, whenever Sokka and Toph visited the Fire Nation Zuko always stocked up on liquor. The long robes favored in the meetings of advisors made it easy to hide a flask. Or five.

Suddenly Lord Zuko's meetings were far, _far_ more interesting.

He hadn't even gotten through the opening remarks (though Sokka and Toph had managed to restrain themselves during the processional in honor of Agni, out of respect) before Toph was nudging him in his side, her knobby elbow hitting him so hard in the ribs that it hurt to breath for a good five minutes after he'd slipped her one of the flasks through the sleeve of his robes.

He hadn't felt any ill will towards her though. Desperate times and all that.

Iroh had been delighted at their interest in his tea – a special blend, meant to promote harmonious spirits and ease the process of decision making – which usually only he and Aang touched at meetings. Sokka had almost felt guilty. _Almost_. And then he'd taken his first sip, and Zuko's favorite advisor had started discussing the projected harvest for the coming fall, and Sokka had taken another sip of his spiked tea.

The point was to be as discreet as possible – in fact, the point was to be the most discreet. They'd engaged in a variety of drinking games before: games where they'd made bets, games where they had to perform admirable feats or hold more liquor than the other. Hell, they'd even played games to see who could be the most hungover the next morning. They'd never played to see who could be the quietest drunk. It was a talent neither one was particularly imbued with, but Katara's wrath was a considerable threat.

They hadn't, unfortunately, thought of a way to judge who was being the most subtle. Toph was starting to giggle. Sokka was still being quiet, but he was starting to feel jittery and fidgety. The problem with this was that every time he shifted, the little glass flasks in his robe clinked together. And every time he shifted, he clinked a little louder, and Toph's giggle became that much more infectious.

Zuko was determinedly ignoring them. Katara's eyes had narrowed, and she was attempting to both pay attention to the advisor at the head of the room and the disruptive duo across from her. Aang was still looking away, but he was frowning, a sure sign that he wasn't overlooking Sokka and Toph.

Still, the meeting was going relatively smoothly – Sokka and Toph were only a slight distraction, and though they had attracted the attention of those close to them, nothing could stop Zuko's advisors, who relentlessly pursued their agenda no matter who was paying attention to them.

Sokka started to feel smug. This had been one of his better ideas. He was actually enjoying a meeting for once, and so was Toph, judging by the grin on her face. He began to feel downright euphoric, and reached for the teapot to refill his cup.

That was when disaster struck. The world was already getting pretty tilty, and Toph chose that moment to elbow him hard once again. Sokka flailed and just barely managed to keep hold of the teapot – though the delicate little lid began to rattle and slide. Sokka swooped his arms in a desperate attempt to keep the thing from falling:

And ended up dumping the entire pot of tea on Iroh. Who was currently drinking deeply from his own cup. Who promptly choked and, coughing and spitting, reminded everybody in the room exactly why he was called the Dragon of the West when the table – and all of the parchment and documents upon it – began to burn.

For a few terrifying moments chaos reigned as the room full of firebenders and other men who had lived their entire lives around fire scrambled to get away from the flaming table. Iroh was still coughing. Toph, remarkably, hadn't seemed to realize that something had happened and was sitting perfectly serenely at her little cushion until Sokka grabbed her by the arm and hauled her away from the table. She squawked in protest and shoved out one foot, tripping him, and they both hit the thin rug covering the stone floor - hard.

Katara was the one who finally stepped in and got the situation under control. As calm as ever, she rolled her eyes, stood up, and put out the fire with the water skin she'd talked the guard into letting her keep when they'd (symbolically) disarmed everyone coming into the meeting.

For a moment there was silence, and stillness. Then Sokka rolled over, and coughed, before looking at Iroh and asking (slowly, so he didn't slur), "Are you okay?"

Iroh gave one final cough and waved at him, as if to reassure everyone in the room that he was fine, just fine, if covered in tea. Katara cleared her throat, and then everybody started to talk at once.

Katara started to scold Sokka and Toph for being so irresponsible – "_Honestly, it's like you go out of your way to entertain yourselves in the _stupidest_ and most _inconvenient_ manner possible_! – while Aang appeared to be torn between backing up Katara, double checking that Iroh wouldn't need Katara's assistance, and making sure Zuko wasn't going to reduce them all to a very fine ash.

They didn't appear to be in immediate danger: Zuko was standing at the head of the room, watching them all with a vaguely bored, slightly anxious, mostly blank look on his face. He didn't even say anything, just shook his head as Aang turned his attention back to Katara and Iroh, and ignored the advisors as they all started yelling and shifting through the burnt, scorched parchment, trying to figure out what had been spared and what could be salvaged.

In the din of the room a voice suddenly broke out over everybody: "Wait, wait wait," Toph insisted, her hands coming up as if to beg for quiet. Her head tilted towards Sokka. "Are you telling me you set the table on fire?"

"Shut up about that," Sokka hissed. "We're in trouble."

Toph chose instead to bust out into hysterical laughter. "You know that means I _win_, right?" she crowed, slapping her knees and continuing to laugh in heaving, wheezing gasps. Then she stopped, hiccupped, and abruptly retched all over Sokka's shoes.

Several of the advisors and Aang all groaned in disgust, but at the head of the table Zuko merely shook his head and reached into his robes for his own flask.

* * *


End file.
